The Drifter and the Lunatic
by Legs
Summary: Philadelphia 1948. "You no longer care for me, Jasper Whitlock? After so many years in my heart?" "No more than a spider cares for the mate she has eaten," he said, his face unchanging. Jasper/Alice.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the intellectual and creative property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company. Any references to this work or direct quotes are borrowed. No plagiarism is intended. No profit is being gained from the publication of this fan-created work. **_

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

"_Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."_

_-Casablanca (1942)_

Three important things happened in August of 1948. Alger Hiss was accused of working for the Soviet Union. Candid Camera first appeared on television. And Jasper Whitlock arrived in Philadelphia.

The term "arrived" really should be used loosely. Wandered into Philadelphia, after drifting through Ohio and West Virginia? Much closer to the truth. He couldn't say much for Philadelphia as a city. _Damn northerners_, he thought, absently. If he were being honest with himself, or thinking much period, he would have been the first to admit he had no idea what drew him here, to this town, this street, this place.

He really should get out of the rain. He knew that. His eyes darted towards the shiny red and silver building to his right. Bob's Diner – Fine American Dining. He was quite sure nothing on that menu would appeal to him.

Still, people were beginning to stare. And no wonder. At six foot, three inches, Jasper was a strange sight, standing bone-straight in the middle of the street, his clothes hanging ill-fittingly off of him, his gaunt face, pale, expressionless, and unquestionably scarred. A man passed a little closer than the others and the fire nearly overtook him.

It was definitely time to get out of the rain.

Wincing in anticipation of the scorching his throat was about to receive, he pushed open the diner door. The heady scent of warm blood pumping overwhelmed the less appetizing smells of bacon grease and cinnamon buns. He almost turned and walked out.

"Have a seat anywhere," a man's voice called from behind the far end of the counter.

Keeping his crimson eyes down, Jasper moved quickly to the darkest corner booth. His wet coat squeaked as it slid uncomfortably along the red leather of the seat.

He did not have to look up to know the waitress was standing in front of him. Did not have to look into her eyes to taste her trepidation. It wafted in the air, almost as palatable as the blood flowing in her veins. She did not want to wait on him anymore than he wanted to be waited on.

"Coffee," he mumbled, his unruly curls falling into his eyes as he stared at the table.

"Cream and sugar?"

"No," he said. And then, "Thank you."

Truth be told, he did not want the coffee, at all. But over the past several years, he had discovered he could order a cup and be left relatively alone. The bitter taste reminded him of earth and silt after rain.

An old man in the next booth met his gaze and quickly looked away. _Smart._

More out of habit than fear of real danger, Jasper glanced through the scraggly blond dreads of his hair at the other patrons. A family sat across the aisle from him. The parents were engrossed in a rather tense conversation about the family car, which was apparently in the garage for repairs. These seemed to have caused considerable problems for the mother who worked downtown and didn't want to take the trolley to the office. The father, whose business was just around the corner, found it irritating that she needed to work, at all. A girl of about seven with giant blue eyes peered over her mother's shoulder to stare at Jasper curiously.

He cleared his throat, disconcerted at the child's lack of fear. Frowning, he continued to take stock of the restaurant. Another couple sat near the door, laughing loudly. His eyes wandered to the long bar near the register, where the high red stools stood empty. All except one.

A girl sat at the counter, her back to him. She was small, the fashionable curve of her shoulder pads only emphasizing this. In front of her, a large milkshake sat untouched. Dark hair, almost black, was curled in careful waves and pinned to one side of her face. Her feet, dainty in patent leather pumps, swung freely in the air. Every now and then, she glanced down at her wrist watch. The tiny corner of her face he could make out would crinkle in frustration every time she did. Her feet would swing faster. She twirled the straw between her fingers. A small sigh escaped her lips. _What was she waiting for? _

"Can I get you anything else?" The waitress was back. Jasper's eyes did not leave the girl at the counter, but even so he could hear the rustling of the woman's blue cotton dress as she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Nothing."

The woman shrugged and turned to leave, almost running straight into the girl who only a second ago had been sitting next to the cash register. With a grace no human possessed, the girl stepped smoothly out of the waitress's path.

Jasper felt cold. The girl was a vampire. _Of course, she was._ It explained his draw to her. His instinct was warning him of the danger. He tensed himself almost before he had time to register that the girl was standing in front of him, her face brimming with so much excitement she looked as though she might burst.

He stared up at her for a moment, allowing her feelings to overrun his own. What he felt unnerved him. _What did she want?_

Her eyes shone as she spoke in a high, lilting voice, "You've kept me waiting a long time, Jasper Whitlock."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………_**..**_

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_

_**Author's note: What does everyone think? Push the little button and tell me! More to come. Suggestions, comments, questions all welcome!**_

_**Notes on research: The diner featured in this chapter is based upon the factual Bob's Diner built in Philadelphia in 1948. Descriptions have been taken directly from photographs both in and outside the diner. 1948 world events are taken from list on . The original concept for this chapter comes from the events recalled in **_**Eclipse**_**. Some artistic liberty has been taken. **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the intellectual and creative property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company. Any references to this work or direct quotes are borrowed. No plagiarism is intended. No profit is being gained from the publication of this fan-created work. **_

_**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for the amazing reviews! You're all so encouraging. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave a review and let me know!**_

* * *

"_Don't tell me where I am. Tell me how far I've come from where I left behind me."_

_-Norma Farber_

"You've kept me waiting a long time, Jasper Whitlock," she said, her face curving into an easy smile.

Jasper stared at her, uncertainly, for a long moment.

The girl stared back, expectantly.

He ducked his head, finally breaking eye contact. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

She laughed and her voice was a thousand tiny bells all ringing at once.

He swallowed another gulp of the brown sludge in his cup, not tasting it. He looked up at her, again, at a complete loss.

"Aren't you going to invite me to join you?" she asked, hands on her hips.

Jasper fought a strange, unfamiliar urge to smile. He stood awkwardly and motioned to the seat across from him. A phrase from his now distant boyhood surfaced in his memory, "May I have the pleasure of your company?" The words sounded stilted, far away.

"I thought you'd never ask," the girl sighed dramatically, flopping down on the leather cushion.

He sat again, tensing as she reached across the table to brush his arm.

"I'm so glad you're here! I thought I'd gotten my days mixed up for sure!" she said brightly.

He could not answer. He sat, teeth clenched, his red eyes on her small white hand where it lay across his forearm.

"Oh!" she said, in realization, pulling back. "That's hard for you, isn't it? I'm sorry." She put her hands in her lap.

Jasper took another sip from his cup, automatically.

"What does that taste like?"

He studied her for a moment and then, setting the cup on the table, nudged it towards her, slowly.

She lifted it to her lips, drinking. She made a face and set it down again. "Whatever possessed you to order that? It's awful! Not that the milkshake I had was any better. I don't really know why anyone would want to drink something frozen. It seems to entirely defeat the purpose of cooking! Although, I've never cooked myself. I've heard it's nice, though. Have you heard that?"

Jasper couldn't remember the last time he'd heard so many words at one time.

Alice continued as if he'd answered her, "I wouldn't know. Food all smells the same to me. This place, especially. It's new, you know? This place? They built it this year. I like the paint. Do you? The colors are so exciting! Red is such a lively color. Like Scarlett O'Hara. She had red hair. And beautiful dresses…" the girl trailed off, wistfully. "Did you see _Gone With the Wind_?"

He shook his head.

"It was about the War Between the States, you know? And Scarlett is madly in love with Ashley but she always ends up with Rhett. I don't know why. He's never very nice to her. Isn't that horrible?"

She stopped and waited for him to speak.

Jasper was trying very hard to make sense of the sudden and torrential outpouring and having little success. "How…" he said, finally forcing the words out, "How do you know my name?"

For the first time since she had sat down, the girl looked unsure of herself. "I know lots of things," she said, reluctantly.

He watched her, the curve of her cheek as she tilted her head, the narrow slope of her nose, the shadow her long, dark lashes cast across the angular planes of her face. Tentatively, Jasper reached out with his mind to feel again…whatever she was feeling. He almost gasped aloud as the waves of certainty and unthinking adoration reached him. "Who _are_ you?" he blurted out, all manners forgotten.

"My name is Alice. And… " She smiled a smile of complete satisfaction, "I've been waiting for you for so long."

"I…didn't know." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I wasn't sure how long it would take you to get here," Alice said. "It's not really a precise art."

"I still don't understand. How do you know me?" he leaned towards her across the table.

"May I cut your hair?"

Jasper straightened, suspicious. "What? Why?"

"It gets in your eyes so much."

"It doesn't grow anymore," he said, his face guarded.

"And that means it really _has_ been a century since you had your hair cut, hasn't it?" Alice looked smug.

"The year I enlisted…"

"And when was that?"

"Eighteen hundred and sixty-one, I believe."

Alice's tiny face lit up with interest. "Really? How old _are_ you?"

Jasper looked uncomfortable, "I thought you knew everything."

She shook her head, "Not the past."

Her stare was so intense he looked down, his long slender fingers tracing the grooves in the table. He could feel her eyes on him and he shifted uncomfortably before looking back up. A wave of tenderness hit him again and he stifled the surprised sound in his throat, leaning farther away from her.

"I can't believe it's really you," she breathed.

"Alice," he said, forcing the unfamiliar name between his teeth.

She seemed to melt at the sound. "Jasper?"

"Why were you waiting for me?"

She smiled, her teeth glinting brightly in the dingy light of the diner. "You won't believe me."

"What do you want from me?"

Alice looked surprised, "I want you to come with me."

He frowned, "Where?"

"You'll have to trust me, Jasper," Alice said, simply, holding out a tiny white hand to him.

He stared, transfixed, at her hand, her palm flat and open. He glanced up at her expectant face. A memory seared through him, bringing another smiling face to mind…_blindingly white teeth, pale, olive skin, black hair flowing. A blood red mouth hung open in laughter._ He shut his eyes, blotting out the image.

"Can you trust me, Jasper?" Alice asked, quietly.

He swallowed once, willing the memory into oblivion and opened his eyes. Setting his mouth in a hard line, he reached out and took her hand.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

_**Author's Note: Thoughts? I'd love to hear them! That magical button is only a click away!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the intellectual and creative property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company. Any references to this work or direct quotes are borrowed. No plagiarism is intended. No profit is being gained from the publication of this fan-created work. **_

_**Author's Note: So this took WAY too long to post. I'm sorry about that. I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! Please review and let me know what you think. Your thoughts on Jasper? Alice? The story thus far? Any predictions about complications? How about moments you've always wanted to play out between the two of them? **_

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………_**..**_

"_Which is worse—the wolf who cries before eating the lamb or the wolf who does not?"_

_-Leo Tolstoy_

Her hand. She was holding his hand. With _her_ hand. Jasper felt dazed. If he could be entirely truthful with himself, and these days it was difficult, he could not remember the last time he had touched a woman. Killed a woman, surely. Turned a woman, perhaps. But touched? It was a small hand and it fit entirely inside his own scarred palm.

She looked up at him, then, and another wave of affection rolled off of her. He had thought after the last hour in the diner, he might have grown used to it; it was practically a habit of hers. And still, looking down into her tiny heart-shaped face that glowed back at him, he was still utterly and completely…flummoxed.

Where were they going, exactly? Not that he particularly cared. This had become the strangest day he had had in several decades. He doubted a sewing pin on a map would be of any comfort. He had just opened his mouth to ask, anyway, when she spoke first.

"Shopping, Jasper. You look like a hobo. How many years have you worn those pants?" Alice's nose wrinkled as she took in the mud-stained canvas work pants he had stolen from a shanty town clothesline.

He cringed. 1933. It had been 1933. He did not even bother to ask how she had known what he was going to say before he said it. He supposed she had a gift. Isn't that what Maria always called it? "A gift, mi amor," she would purr. "Usted fue enviado a mí. Un regalo." He clenched his teeth. He worked very hard not to speak her name, even to himself. Jasper could feel his ordinarily tight control slipping and he grasped Alice's hand more firmly.

She smiled at him, again, and Jasper had the strangest urge to touch her face.

"I'm sorry. Did I upset you?"she asked.

"No, ma'am," he said, reflexively. His southern manners, though a trifle rusty from lack of use, were coming back to him.

They had stopped in front of a store and he felt his throat constrict. Stores meant humans in small, crammed spaces. Hot blood pulsing through necks and veins, rushing through arteries and pumping into—

Unconcerned, Alice tugged him through the door and into the large department store lobby where a clerk in a gray suit eyed them quizzically.

"May I help you, miss?"

"My fiancé needs a suit, you see," she said, waving her hand airily. "But I simply _cannot_ convince him that the war is _over_. Darling," here she grasped Jasper's elbow and shook him lightly, "There's no need to dress like you're still in a fox hole!"

The clerk, who had been eyeing Jasper suspiciously, now relaxed under Alice's well-coiffed, assured guise. "Ah, well, of course," he said, glancing dubiously at Jasper's torn coat and heavy work boots.

"Really, dear, how do you expect me to pack your things for the honeymoon when you only own _one _suit coat?" Alice stared at him with such annoyance that Jasper wondered for a moment if they had had this conversation months ago and he had somehow forgotten to do as she had asked.

"I…suppose I had better do what she says," he told the clerk, somewhat helplessly.

"Right this way, sir." With that, the man turned and gestured that they follow him.

Alice winked up at Jasper once, beaming with excitement. At what? At the prospect of buying clothes? At the idea of getting away with this little charade? At the idea of pretending they were getting married? He pursed his lips to hide the unexpected smile he felt. What was _wrong_ with him?

What felt like hours later, but could only have been minutes, Jasper stood stiffly before a floor-length mirror in what was, apparently, the height of fashion. The high-waisted trousers felt strange but even he could admit that in the boxy, double-breasted coat and wide tie, he did not stand out as much as he had this morning.

Alice was practically dancing. She ran her hands across the wide shoulders of the jacket and looked up at him, admiringly.

Jasper's gaze shifted uncomfortably from her adoring eyes to his own bizarre reflection. He frowned, looking for the good thing Alice must see to make her smile like that. What he saw puzzled him. His dark blond hair, which he had allowed her to push out his eyes, still hung in wild curls around his face. Below it, his wide eyes were a dark red, something that must have put the assisting salesman ill at ease. His bone white cheekbones were hollowed out and the slope of his pouting mouth was decidedly feminine. Nothing remarkable there. His eyes drifted down to his tall frame. Well, height was good. The muscles in his chest and shoulders were more defined in these clothes. He had a soldier's body, built on horseback in the day and on cold, hard ground at night. Still, nothing to explain this strange girl's strange behavior.

"We'll take it," Alice was saying to the clerk, her eyes never leaving Jasper's face.

In the end, they left the store with a suit, a pair of brown and white wingtip shoes, a fedora, which even Jasper admitted to liking, and a pair of striped pajamas which Alice insisted he would need.

Back in the street, Jasper struggled to walk at a human pace, something Alice seemed to have mastered. She strolled jauntily, her hips swinging in a rhythm Jasper could almost hear. Curling her arm around his elbow, she held her umbrella over both their heads and laughed, "Now isn't this better than your smelly old coat?"

"I'm afraid I can't disagree," he said, fighting that smile again.

"Of course not," she said, smugly.

"How did you know where to find me?" he asked.

"I saw it," she told him, looking straight ahead. "In my head."

"Do you do that often?"

She nodded.

"Ah."

They were silent; the rain hitting the umbrella sounded to Jasper like elephant's hooves. The sky above them had grown dark with a coming storm. The street was empty of passersby, all hurrying to get indoors.

"What else?" Jasper asked, finally. "What else do you see?"

"Lots of things," she said, reluctantly.

"About me?"

"I…"

Jasper thought she looked…shy. "Alice."

She looked up as he said her name.

"Alice, what did you see?"

Alice was about to speak when a strange look passed over her face. Just as she gave a little gasp, a woman passed too close in the street and the edge of her sleeve touched Jasper's back. She had been running to get out of the rain and her skin was flushed.

He was so caught off guard that instinctively he whirled around, a growl ripping through his teeth.

The woman gave a surprised little cry and ran past them down a dark side street.

"Jasper, don't," Alice whispered, catching his arm. He stared out at her from wild, black eyes. He pulled away from her and was gone, whipping silently into the alley in pursuit of what had become his prey.

As he buried his teeth in the woman's jugular, he felt someone had come to stand beside him. He turned to see Alice, her small white face eerie in the lightning-lit back alley.

He didn't know what he had expected to see on her face. Annoyance at him leaving her in the street, maybe. Boredom with his lack of self-control. Anger at him for not sharing. Even lust, he might have anticipated. But not this flickering sadness in her eyes. Not…disappointment.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_**Author's Note: Alright, time to share! Click the little button and lay it on me! You know you want to…**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the intellectual and creative property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company. Any references to this work or direct quotes are borrowed. No plagiarism is intended. No profit is being gained from the publication of this fan-created work. **_

_**Author's Note: All my love to the great readers and reviewers of this story! You all propel me forward in this. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave a review and let me know what you think! It's always a pleasure and a help to hear from you. **_

_**Side-note: I've finally posted the first chapter of my original story on fictionpress(dot)net . My pen name on that site is e. riley. It's called "Sitting in a Tree" and it's a romantic comedy. No vampires or werewolves but I'm working really hard on it. If anyone feels like taking a peek, I'd love to hear feedback. It's something I've been working on for months and I really value all of your opinions. I really want to know if you guys think I should write original fiction. **_

* * *

"_I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see... If you loved me I should be as gentle as a lamb… __Love me! Believe that I am good—and I will be! Touch me in the darkness and I will reach the light…"_

_-Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera_

Alice hadn't said anything to Jasper about the girl. Actually, she hadn't said much, at all. The two of them ran in silence through a hundred back alleys. They moved so quickly that, in the gathering dusk, they would have easily been mistaken for shadows, there and gone.

Alice's face was stony, her eyebrows pulling together slightly, her tiny mouth pursed in thought. Her emotions confused him. What had he done to upset her?

He had fed, yes, and in the city, something he generally avoided doing. Too many potential witnesses. But surely she wasn't angry about that? They hadn't been spotted.

Even as he had felt the panic and sickening dread of his prey, her heart had gone quiet, her head slumping lifelessly against his chest. The memory created a strange twinge of emotion that scratched at his insides. He recognized it immediately as regret and was surprised. He regretted killing her. Strange.

He glanced at Alice, again. The woman's death had clearly offended her in some way. He focused his mind on the tenor of her emotions. Her feelings swirled quickly, colliding into one another, making him work harder to pick them out as they hit him. Disappointment, frustration, anxiety and something stronger, something he could not entirely pinpoint. It was the affection and certainty she had radiated only that morning but somehow more than that. She knew…something. What was it?

Jasper followed Alice, though he was not entirely sure why. When she finally came to a halt, he glanced briefly at their surroundings. A factory, near the water, long since abandoned. Broken glass and crumbling brick lay in heaps at their feet. Gaping holes in the ceiling high, high above their heads let the rain continue to fall over them as they stood, facing one another. It didn't matter. They were both already soaked.

"Ask me," she said, looking up at him, blinking heavy drops of water from her eyelashes.

He stared back, wondering which question he should ask first. "Who are you?"

"I told you," she said, impatiently. "My name is Alice."

"And what do you want from me?" Jasper felt his voice rise in frustration.

"You know this already! I want you to come with me!"

His unshakable calm was rapidly disappearing, "Come with you _where_?"

"Washington state."

"Washington?" He was taken aback by the straightforwardness of her answer. "Why?"

"Because that's where our family is! They're waiting for us."

"Our _what_?"

"Well, not waiting, exactly. They don't actually know we're coming."

"I don't understand you. You speak very strangely! I don't know you. Or who you are. Or where you come from! Or why you need me to go to Washington state with you!" Jasper was shouting now but he didn't particularly care. An irritated growl leapt, without warning, from between his teeth.

Instead of backing away in fear as Jasper was convinced she should have, Alice smiled and reached a tiny hand up to brush his cheek. "I'm so glad you're finally here," she whispered.

Another wave of that inexplicable emotion rocked through Jasper's entire being and he gasped, pulling back from her touch as though he had been burned. "Wha-what _is_ that? What is it that you're feeling right now?" He realized his question made no real sense.

Alice smiled, anyway, and reached her hand back up to his face. This time he didn't pull away. "You're not asking the question but I know you would really like to," she murmured.

The answer, he was already quite sure, would change him forever.

"What…what have you seen?"

* * *

Dawn was barely visible above their heads when the two vampires finally lapsed into silence again. The last few hours had been a torrent of questions and answers and now the two lay, on their backs, their faces turned upwards to stare at the changing sky.

"Animals," Jasper repeated into the stillness.

"Animals," Alice said firmly.

"And I won't want to feed on human beings?"

"Someday you won't."

"And we're going to live…with other vampires." The idea made Jasper uneasy.

"The Cullens," Alice said, happily.

"I see."

"You're going to love them, Jasper. Just as if they were your human family."

Somehow, Jasper doubted that. Through the haze of a century past, he could not distinctly remember much about the Whitlock clan. Perhaps, he had his mother's fair hair and skin, his father's nose. Had he had siblings? He could not recall. Even so, he knew, somehow, that he had cared for them and that no coven of strange, animal-blood drinkers in Washington state were going to replace them.

Besides, there were more pressing matters Alice had introduced. For instance, their impending nuptials. He had to admit, while her other predictions had sounded far-fetched, ridiculous even, this one sounded plain…unbelievable. Vampires did not marry. Certainly, Jasper had no intention of marrying. And yet, here was Alice, proclaiming a strange vision of the future in which he would survive on deer carcasses, change his name, though not to "Cullen" but to "Hale," and pretend to be a schoolboy for many decades. Was marriage to Alice really the strangest of those prophecies?

"Is that everything?" he asked.

Alice shook her head, "Of course not. There are some things coming we need to discuss." Her voice was serious until she laughed, "But everything else is so incredible, I'm afraid you'll find it difficult to believe me." She turned her face to the side so that their noses were almost touching. She smiled.

Jasper returned her gaze, liking the way the smile felt stretched across his face. He was suddenly very aware of just how close she was to him. Her sweet face was looking back at him, expectantly. He swallowed once and tried to think of something to say to Alice.

"I…I like the way you wear your hair, all curled like that on the side. It's…it's lovely."

"It's awfully short," she sighed, wistfully, reaching her hand up to it self-consciously. "Not much I can do about that now. It was like that when I woke up."

"And you don't remember anything before that."

Alice's eyes crinkled with humor. "I sure am a big mystery, don't you think?"

"You are very mysterious," he agreed.

She laughed and without thinking, Jasper reached a hand out and cupped her cheek. She stopped laughing. Her lips parted slightly. Her eyes grew dark.

Jasper felt the muscles in his stomach and legs tighten involuntarily. Now _that_ feeling…_that_ feeling he remembered. Had felt it before from passersby absorbed with their own lives, from victims long before they knew what he was, from Lucy, Nettie, and Maria. And now from her. _Lust_.

He realized with a start that this was not merely a fleeting moment or passing thought. Alice was staring at him with expectation. Had she _seen_ this?

"You love me," he blurted out, hardly knowing what he was saying before he said it.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you, Jasper. I've loved you as far back as I can remember."

"How can you love me?" he whispered back, brokenly. "How can I…" He couldn't finish the question. Couldn't even begin to understand how strangely different he felt. It must be her, making him feel this way. She had rattled him, that was it. Dismantled him, even. Had crawled inside his skin and sewn in a bizarre new set of rules he couldn't begin to follow. He imagined a check-list she might have written for him and left there inside where he couldn't reach to pull it out.

Don't hunt humans. 2) Move to Washington and join a coven. 3) Fall in love with Alice.

His hands were on her shoulders.

"You're going to kiss me now," she said, with certainty.

He tightened his grip on her arms, almost involuntarily. "How do you know that?" he demanded, fiercely.

"I'm psychic," she said, softly. "Remember?"

Jasper lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Instantly, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him. When he felt her tongue land on one of the small scars near the corner of his mouth, he growled and pulled her under him.

A memory, dusty with age, surfaced and he dimly recalled that gentlemen did not kiss ladies like this. Especially not ladies lying down in abandoned warehouses in the middle of the night.

Alice made a very unladylike sound in her throat that sounded a bit like, "mhhmmmm," and Jasper promptly forgot all about being a gentleman.

* * *

If it weren't for Alice's extra senses, they might have continued like that for hours, days, months. Jasper was quite sure that he never wanted to leave the factory floor. But when he felt her stiffen suddenly in his arms, he paused in his trail of kisses up her stomach to watch her face. Her eyes were on something very far away. And then…they grew frightened.

"Oh, Jasper…" she whispered.

* * *

_**Author's note: Okay, whew. I would love to hear from you so please drop a review below! What was your favorite part of this chapter? What's your favorite thing about Alice or Jasper? What aspect of their coupledom isn't explored enough? Anything you want to happen in the next chapter? Thank you for reading! I love you guys!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the intellectual and creative property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company. Any references to this work or direct quotes are borrowed. No plagiarism is intended. No profit is being gained from the publication of this fan-created work. **_

_**Author's Note: This took an unforgivable amount of time to put up. I knew how this story was going to end but I just couldn't bring myself to write it. Seeing Eclipse was definitely inspirational and helped me visualize some of the following a little more clearly. Nothing like Jackson Rathbone, CGI and 65 million dollars to get the wheels turning! It's interesting how much this reminds me of Eclipse now that I've seen the film. However, the plot has not changed from its original inception. Review and give me your thoughts ! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! Stay tuned for the epilogue!**_

…_._

"_For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,_

_Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."_

_-William Shakespeare, Sonnet CXLVII_

"What, Alice? What do you see?"

She shook her head, disoriented, "I thought, I thought we'd have more time but she's caught up sooner than I expected."

"_She_?" Even as he repeated the word, Jasper felt an eclipsing unease slip over him.

"I'm so sorry, Jasper. I wanted more time to warn you…to prepare you. I hadn't fully predicted our detour here. I only saw that it would be sometime in the coming days."

"Alice," he rasped, grasping her shoulders. "_Who_ is coming?"

"Someone from your past," she whispered.

"My past," he frowned.

"You won't be happy to see her," Alice said.

_Her…_Jasper mused. He was almost two hundred years old. How many "hers" had he known? Honestly, very few.

A her of significance…his mother was dead, his sisters long since passed on, even the girl or two he had courted in his youth.

Back flew the face, the strangely ashen brown skin, the impossibly long, thick black hair, the large, round eyes, brimming with passion and blood and death. "No," he muttered. "No, she wouldn't." Even as the words left him, he could feel the gathering swell of new emotions pulsing from outside the factory and growing ever closer.

She wouldn't be alone, he knew that much.

Even as he stood to face the entrance, even as Alice pressed herself close to him, even as she appeared there in the doorway, a black silhouette in barely rising sun, he wondered if his eyes deceived him. She raised her arm, a shawl slipping from her shoulder. It glittered like crystal, shattering any hope of illusion.

Without warning, a growl sprung from his lips.

"Jasper," a voice like chocolate and fire said.

"Maria," he struggled not to bare his teeth. It would not do to show so much emotion.

There was a snarl behind her and Jasper could make out the outline of another vampire, obviously young, newly created. It hissed in his direction.

"What a coincidence! To see you here, Jasper. Es el destino, no?"

Jasper did not relax his stance.

"And who is your little friend?" Maria asked, stepping closer, her face now shimmering in the morning light streaming from the high windows.

Alice did not move but lifted her chin to stare Maria straight in the eyes.

Maria smiled coldly, "I see you were lonely, Jasper. Did you make this one? Like I made you?"

Jasper said nothing.

"Always the soldier," Maria murmured. "Never breaking ranks. That's what made you so perfect for me."

Jasper's voice was careful, "What do you _want_, Maria?"

Behind her, the newborn growled, clawing at its throat.

Maria said something sharply in Spanish but the creature only grew more agitated.

Jasper allowed the walls around his mind to sink lower. He was loathe to help Maria but remembering Alice, her tiny cold form still against him, he reluctantly sent a feeling of calm through, anyway.

Maria must have felt the energy shift, as well, for she turned back to him, her face now a prism of radiance and pride. "Asombroso…as always." She was now very close and she turned her face up to his in that way she had.

The newborn looked confused, and a little sleepy. It sat down, bewildered, but under control.

"I ask you again, Maria, and you will tell me," Jasper said, his deep Southern voice harder than ever. "What are you doing here?"

"I have been searching for you. Volverá a mí, Jasper. Return to me."

Beside him, Alice did not even stiffen. Her face betrayed nothing but wide-eyed interest.

"How did you find me?" he said, his gaze darting from her to the newborn and back again.

Maria shook her dark mane, her face smug, "You are more predictable than you think, boy soldier. It was easy enough once I began to look."

"You needn't have bothered," he said..

"You do not miss me, Jasper?" Maria asked, her eyes boiling into great frenzied pools. "You do not long for my arms, mi amor? You do not long for our _children_?" She gestured towards the newborn, sitting stupor-like at her feet.

"Is that what you call your victims now?"

Maria reached out long, slender fingers to touch his chest, "You no longer care for me, Jasper Whitlock? After so many years in my heart? In my bed?"

"No more than a spider cares for the mate she has eaten," he said, his face unchanging.

She stared at him for a long moment. Jasper thought he felt a moment of pain frost the air and then she laughed – a dark laugh like a thing possessed. She turned cobra-like to Alice. "And you, then? Are you the new spider mate, child?" Without hesitating, she whipped forward to pin a hand around Alice's throat but even as her fingers flew through the air, Alice was behind her, having jumped over Maria's head and spinning around. In spite of himself, Jasper had to fight a grin.

Maria shrieked and rushed her but once again Alice had beaten her by a step. Smoothly, she darted to the side of the older vampire's reach and ducking, avoiding her sweeping nails by a good foot.

On its feet immediately, the newborn was roaring and stalking closer to Alice.

Jasper curled an arm around its neck and squeezed. There was the sound of granite popping and snapping and an incoherent screaming.

Maria whirled back to him. "You think you can live without me?" she challenged. "But you will never be satisfied! You will hunt and you will feed and you will mate and you will long for it, hunger for it. And _never_ find it." She stopped as if to take a breath and she glowed with triumph.

Alice spoke, then, for the first time in what felt like hours. She spoke and her tiny bell voice did not wobble or waver. "You're wrong," she said, firmly, coming to stand next to Jasper once again and entwining her hand with his.

And Jasper felt it again. That wave of confidence and comfort and…love. Looking down at their hands, he smiled and a small dimple Alice had not noticed before suddenly appeared.

"You are a fool, Jasper Whitlock," Maria whispered from the doorway as retreated.

"Yes, ma'am," he said after her, almost out of habit. "I think I am."

…

EPILOGUE TO COME

_**A/N: Alright, what do you think? Fitting end to Jasper and Alice's meeting? Anyone want to take a stab at what they think might be in the epilogue? **_


End file.
